


baby, seasons change

by doublej (ryliner)



Category: GOT7
Genre: M/M, as usual lol, jackson wang as our helpful wingman!, one night stand turned FLOOFY, one night stand turned into... This
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-13 15:13:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14751281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ryliner/pseuds/doublej
Summary: Jinyoung catches a glimpse of himself in the side view mirror, sees a dark hickey peaking out from underneath the line of his (Jaebum's) shirt, too big on his narrow shoulders.





	baby, seasons change

**Author's Note:**

> [this jb](https://78.media.tumblr.com/ceb8c9b1250c097ab81feaad7dd2be84/tumblr_inline_o9p9cdqxhQ1tqyu82_400.gif) and [this jinyoung](https://i.imgur.com/lPBDGnr.gif)

Glaring yellow light filters its way in from where the curtain hangs, the cloth small enough so that, irritatingly, it _just_ misses the sliver of window it leaves uncovered, a washed out summer heat that stabs into Jinyoung's eye like the sun is his enemy, looking to spar. He wonders what woke him. It must be noon, already. The day has been hanging around for maybe a few hours now, but Jinyoung's not so sure. Even if, it wasn't the shine that woke him. A doorknob jiggles from behind then, startlingly loud, and Jinyoung is reminded once again of that frustrating feeling from last night, an itch where he couldn't quite reach, and also, that this isn't his house. Jaebum finally gets the bathroom door to budge on the third try, and cusses like the world is against him when he does.

Jinyoung turns onto his side at the noise, grimaces at the soreness in his lower back, his thighs, the knobs of his knees. He feels like shit, probably looks the part too, and peeks one eye open when Jaebum makes a low noise, something half full of surprise and the other half indistinguishable. 

He stands in the doorway of where bathroom meets bedroom, looking lost in his own apartment. 

Jinyoung would smile at that, except the skin of his lips feels too stretched already, flesh drawn tight with a layer of dryness and the lingering remnants of tequila, still there on his tongue. He's been here before, once or twice maybe, yet each time, never long enough to see it in the dim light it is now, walls illuminated by what must be late afternoon. Shadows spindle off the plaster in bizarre shapes, turning silhouettes into long, gangling things; a lamp into a tree, three books into a staircase, and Jaebum, into a frowning face, eyebrows drawn tight together like he's wondering what exactly Jinyoung is still doing, here. In his room. 

"Some party," says Jinyoung, a lower scrape than he'd expected.

His throat is dry, parched in a way where his tongue feels like sand. He yearns to drink in more than just the conflictual expression of Jaebum's handsome face, kind of angry, if Jinyoung looks with the right angle, but doesn't feel like asking. There's something in Jaebum's glower that already says _no water, go home_ , so Jinyoung forces himself upright without being asked, and ignores when a twinge of pain rockets up from the base of his spine. 

"You look like shit," says Jaebum, echoing Jinyoung's initial thought. He stares through narrowed eyes, as if Jinyoung looking like shit was _Jinyoung's_ fault, and says, "I want food. Get dressed," before digging something from his drawer and tossing it Jinyoung's way. A shirt. 

Jinyoung, without the capacity for much else, just nods, and struggles to stand on wobbly feet. Jaebum, by then, is gone from the room. 

-

They go to a McDonalds. 

Greasy food isn't a cure at all, but it's cure-some, and Jinyoung'll take what he can get after everything last night. He's surprised that Jaebum meant he wanted food _together_ , but doesn't voice this around the nugget he quickly stuffs in his mouth. This is new. He's never seen Jaebum in daylight before, or at least, not this up close. Always in flashes when they pass by each other on campus, or second-long interactions shared through their only mutual connection.

Jinyoung thinks Jackson has too many strange, hotheaded friends. Jaebum must think the same. He takes the napkins from where they're squashed underneath everything on the tray, and peels one off to hand to Jinyoung. 

"Your fingers are oily," says Jaebum, before Jinyoung can thank him. "Don't be gross." 

-

"Sunbae," Jaebum still insists that Jinyoung call him sunbae, even despite their age-gap being a mere few months. "Where are we going?" 

"I left something at the studio. It's on the way to your apartment." But before Jinyoung can ask how Jaebum even knows where he lives, Jaebum quickly says, "Jackson's your roommate, right?" And well, true. Jinyoung nods, and Jaebum takes that as his cue to turn up the radio, twisting the knob almost as far as it'll go. Not many people can own a car when they're still in Uni, but Jinyoung supposes anything's on the table when your father manufactures half of what is sold in East Asia. He catches a glimpse of himself in the side view mirror, sees a dark hickey peaking out from underneath the line of his (Jaebum's) shirt, too big on his narrow shoulders. Maybe he'll sneak into Jackson's room later to cover it up with make-up. 

In the background, Dave Grohl croons on about love and hate and no strings attached. The sun's glare feels accusing all of a sudden. 

-

"I don't want to leave you alone. Let's go inside," Jaebum says, and just like last night, Jinyoung doesn't say no. 

The building is huge, with windows and windows of unknown occupants. Jaebum stays silent the whole way up, even when Jinyoung comments on the niceness of the lobby. He leads them to a door with the number 339 engraved in the wood, and asks Jinyoung to take his shoes off. He does, and wonders why Jaebum even brought him here. They're practically strangers, barely even acquaintances, and distant enough for Jaebum to still want to be called sunbae. They're not close at all, not like Jaebum and Jackson, or Jinyoung and Jackson, yet Jaebum's holding his studio door open for Jinyoung like he wants him there, because maybe, they do know each other, just in ways that even Jackson could never understand.

"So this is where the magic happens," Jinyoung peers around the room with undisguised amazement; at the computer desktop on the table, the printed photos stuck on the wall, the guitar in the corner. Jinyoung's heard Jaebum's Soundcloud songs before, kudos to Kim Yugyeom, yet never imagined he'd be standing in the middle of Jaebum's own personal studio, in a shirt that wasn't his and that drooped in the neckline. 

"This is it," Jaebum walks past Jinyoung to where the computer is. 

He fishes around atop the cluttered tabletop for something, ends up finding it plugged into the side of his computer. A thumb-drive, probably containing a song. "Where d'you get the inspiration for all this?" Jinyoung doesn't mean to pry, but finds himself intrigued by the myriad of photographs on the wall. Mostly, it's scenery, but some shots reveal features of the people Jinyoung's seen hanging around Jaebum, and a couple of cat pictures here and there. Jinyoung doesn't know Jaebum at all, but he has met Nora before, on the one or two occasions he'd snuck out of Jaebum's apartment at 5AM and found her lurking by the front door. 

"I write what I see," says Jaebum, strangely open. Jinyoung wasn't even expecting an answer. "Love, heartbreak. Sometimes you." 

"Me?" 

"You're confusing, Jinyoung-ssi," Jaebum sounds unsure as he talks, eyes fixed on the window that overlooks Seoul in the late evening. "I don't... I don't even _know_  you. I can't." The line of his back is broad against the sunlight filtering in, and Jinyoung curls his hands quickly into fists by his side, because he want to do something stupid his brain is warning him not to do, and it's silly that body parts should even argue with each other, and silly that he's pretending not to know exactly what he wants. Jaebum clears his throat to rid the heavy silence, turns around so that Jinyoung has to snap his gaze elsewhere. "Let's go. I got what I wanted anyway." 

But Jinyoung is unmoving, even as Jaebum moves past him for the door. And he can't let the conversation hang, not when Jaebum was just starting to talk, and turns at the last second, catches Jaebum's arm in a vice grip, and holds tight against the surprised gasp that Jaebum allows. "You can know me," his mouth wins an argument against his brain, and acts before he can eat the words. "You don't have to be like this all the time." 

" _Don't_." Jaebum tries his wrist, but Jinyoung holds on. "You don't know what you're saying." 

"Hyung--" 

" _No_. Don't call me that. Let me go. Let _this_ go," Jaebum wins out, tearing himself away and cradling his arm, building up that wall again when it was just beginning to crumble. "I shouldn't have said anything. We... We're not--" he seems to be at a loss, struggling to continue the improv, his expression a mess of emotions as he says, "Just keep your hands away from me, Jinyoung," and takes a step back, and Jinyoung blurts, can't quite control himself -- 

"That's not what you said last night." 

\-- and, well, then. Then Jaebum withdraws completely, like a switch has been flipped, and like he's made his mind up. He turns his back on Jinyoung without so much as a word more, except a cruel, " _Let's go_ ," and doesn't look back, even when Jinyoung slips a helpless, muted sound, strangled in the back of his throat. 

-

Jaebum insists on walking with Jinyoung to his apartment, and ducks his head when he says it's because he needs to see Jackson. Jinyoung doesn't really feel like wasting his breath on answerless questions, and just lets it happen when Jaebum comes close to rest a hand atop Jinyoung's lower back as they approach the elevator, hidden from watchful eyes in the underground carpark, a heavy touch through thin cotton that brands itself into Jinyoung's skin. "I live on the eighteenth floor," says Jinyoung, for no particular reason as he touches the back of a keycard to the sensor, expecting it already when Jaebum reaches out automatically to press the number 18 button. 

They stand in silence as the doors close, and the floors begin to pass by in increasing numbers. "Jackson majors in Sports Management," Jaebum doesn't take his hand from Jinyoung's back, hovering awfully close. "And I... I major in business. Minor in music." 

Jinyoung keeps his eyes on the floor level. "Why business?" 

"My father," says Jaebum, his hand twitching. "It was a compromise, of sorts. I get to study music if he gets a business degree out of me." 

 _Why are you telling me this?_ Jinyoung flexes his fingers before curling them into tight fists. He realises then -- "Are you taking me up on my offer, sunbae?" _To get to know each other_. Jinyoung watches the numbers change from 11, to 12, to 13, and then stop at 14, all while Jaebum remains silent. The metal doors creak open, and Jaebum's hand disappears from Jinyoung's back as he takes a quick step to the side. On the fourteenth floor, a young woman stands with a toddler in her arms. 

"Is this going up?" She asks, a permanent furrow in between her brows. 

"Yes," says Jinyoung, offering a wave at the toddler, who looks away. "Sorry," he says, when the woman tells him she wants to go downstairs. The elevator doors come to a close once more when Jaebum digs his thumb into the button, and the toddler raises a tiny hand to return Jinyoung's wave just as he disappears from sight. 

Jaebum stays standing in his own space until they reach the eighteenth floor. 

Jinyoung doesn't bring up his awkward attempt at initiating a conversation, and steps out of the elevator after Jaebum gestures for him to go first.

The hand returns as they approach Jinyoung and Jackson's apartment, number 18A, except Jaebum doesn't just hover his hand over Jinyoung's lower back like he did before, but actually curls his fingers in to pull Jinyoung close, turn him around from the door in an awkward twist so that they're toe to toe, Jaebum making a demanding noise and pressing his mouth to Jinyoung's without warning like they're not standing in the fucking open floor, where any of Jinyoung's four neighbours could easily come out for mail, or use the elevator, and run into Im Jaebum pushing his tongue into Jinyoung's mouth like he just can, because what. The fuck. 

Jaebum breaks away after a minute, breathing fast, and Jinyoung stares at him, brain slowly catching up with the action. He licks his lip absently where Jaebum had bitten, and Jaebum's gaze follows the movement steadily, unembarrassed. Jinyoung laughs a little incredulously, staring at him.

“Um, okay,” he says, and then shakes his head. “I – what? Sunbae, what is your _deal_?” 

"I want to know you," says Jaebum, but the words come out so fast that they end up glued together. His cheeks are flush, and his hand is still low on Jinyoung's back as he continues. "And I was stupid before. To not want to know you." 

"Before? Dude, that was half an hour ago--"

"Yeah," Jaebum cuts in, redness spreading to below his chin. "Before. I'm dumb, OK? I just--" he takes his hand back, as if burnt, letting Jinyoung move to unlock the door. Jinyoung kind of wants to just go inside and slam it in Jaebum's blank face, bitch about him endlessly to Jackson and maybe Mark, because how could someone be so handsome yet so _dense._  But Jinyoung quickly dismisses the thought of leaving Jaebum out here to hear what he actually has to say about _knowing_ each other, and keeps his back turned. "I think I like you--?" Jaebum's falters cutely, like he's fumbling. "Or, at least, I could? And I think I've been a bit of an ass--" 

"You said I looked like shit this morning--"

"-- _and I was thinking_ ," Jaebum hurries on. "That maybe you should call me 'hyung' after all? Or, like, if you still want to." 

Jinyoung keeps his eyes glued to the keypad, wonders whether or not he should key in the code and leave Jaebum with his middle-school confession at the doorstep, or respond like a decent human being. But, before he can even weigh out the pros and cons of having Im Jaebum suffer, something in him quickly decides that, no, he'd much rather see how this whole thing pans out right then and there, and he spins around, takes the few steps forward needed to be toe-to-toe with Jaebum again, and leans forward all quick-like, presses his mouth to Jaebum's in a short, sweet peck that steals the breath from Jaebum's stiff shoulders. Jinyoung digs his fingers into the nape of Jaebum's neck where he's clutching the skin there, retracting too fast for Jaebum to really react, yet when he pulls away, Jaebum is already staring at him with this glazed over look, and he reaches out to touch Jinyoung's cheek.

He moves like he intends for it to be a fleeting brush of fingers, but Jinyoung leans into it for a moment with closed eyes, and Jaebum's hand is warm, warm like the sun, that doesn't feel so accusing anymore. So. "I'll see you tomorrow?" he says, squeezing at the base of Jaebum's neck, eyes half-closed and cheeks pink. "I... I think I could like you, too." 

“Oh,” Jaebum says. He's smiling wide. “ _Good_. I'll--I'll text you. Okay?" 

"Okay," Jinyoung agrees, smiling just as wide. He likes the prospect of this, likes the half-moon of Jaebum's eyes. "I'll see you," he pauses, tests the word on his tongue, and says, "Hyung," just because he can, and because Jaebum's grin widens at that. 

**Author's Note:**

> aaah well, this was intended angst turned sweet. i hope u enjoyed this no-plot fic!! i appreciate ur kudos and comments u all are the best. 
> 
> also, feel free to come hmu on [curious cat](https://curiouscat.me/yugbammer) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/yugbammer) .


End file.
